Coquelicot
by manhattan martini
Summary: "Heroes want red heads." Thirty moments in time. — StevenFlannery
1. Introduction

**A/N:** Pre-player character winning the league._  
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><p><strong>Coquelicot<br>**_poppy red; brilliant red  
><em>#1: Introduction

…

He gets to the meeting terribly, terribly late.

And yet, Steven is impressed because she takes his hand and shakes it strongly, with a chipper smile adorning her pretty face.

Steven, already used to business meetings with poker-faced old men, immediately notices the strain in her smile, the nervous timbre of her voice when she introduces herself. He thinks it's cute that she's trying to be a little more confident and whatnot, but he can't help but to tease her about it: "Are you nervous?"

Flannery stares at her shoes and bites down on her lip until he places a hand on her shoulder. He is undecided – squeeze reassuringly or not to – but in the end decides to tighten. She brings her bright reds to his grey and looks at him like she's expecting something.

"There's no reason to be nervous." He lets his hand fall. "Becoming a gym leader is a joyous occasion. I know that you won't get a confirmation from a certificate, but I can assure you that you are ready."

She steps back, sits on the small couch. The lobby of the League building is empty; there is a thin layer of confetti paving the marble floor, and he hears it shuffling under her feet when she moves to sit. Everyone has gone home save for Wallace and Sidney, and the two men are by the pokécenter counter, cheerfully chatting over a card game. Steven sits beside her, and takes care not to have their thighs touch.

He's sure that there are fifteen million questions in her head: _Will I ever be half the leader my grandfather was? Will I be good enough? Will I fail?_ He knows because he's been there. Arguing with his father since the age of eleven makes him fairly knowledgeable about issues regarding confidence. The problem is that he doesn't bend to anyone's will, and his father has recognized it. Flannery isn't him, of course, and she's fairly younger as well, which makes her nothing but a competent trainer in a world of elites. He understands.

There is a slight silence, but it's a comfortable one. He's almost sorry to break it. Steven knows that sharing a comfortable silence is something rare and precious, at least in his world.

"It's not just fun and games. You have to work, and you have to train. As a gym leader, you are a role model for every single young trainer that challenges you. Being a gym leader is … I won't lie, it's hard. But it's fulfilling—" he glances towards Wallace and smiles softly, "—or so I have been told."

Flannery lets out a small giggle and when Steven shifts to glance at her, he finds her relatively more relaxed. She pulls closer to the sofa and sighs, and before he can say anything, she opens her mouth and lets out a torrent: "This party was stressful. I was nervous. I didn't know anyone. I drank a little too much fruit punch. I think it was spiked. … I'm blabbing."

Flannery buries her face in her hands and leans back.

"It gets better from here on. You get experience. You have fun. You meet interesting people." He remembers a small teen, with brown hair and blue eyes, who manoeuvred pokémon more beautifully than Wallace, and goes on. "You don't have to face this as a responsibility. However, you mustn't forget it still is one."

Flannery lets her hands drop until they're settled beside her hips, and Steven feels a little uncomfortable when he feels her fingers brush his. He tries not to think much of it, but the heat in his face warns him that he's failed at indifference.


	2. The World Starts With Me

**Coquelicot  
><strong>_poppy red; brilliant red  
><em>#2: The World Starts With Me

…

Roxanne asks him to train with her. She tells him that she has regretfully lost to a greenhorn trainer, and that it's _his_ job to make sure gym leaders are sharp and on their toes. Steven—rolls his eyes—agrees, and reaches Rustboro next morning. He has a mock battle with Roxanne, warns her of her weak points, tells her to strengthen her strong ones, and when she is satisfied, he makes to leave.

"Where are you going?" she asks. Her nosepass is staring at him, just as surprised.

"I am supposed to meet with my father," Steven replies.

Roxanne raises an eyebrow, questioning him quietly, but doesn't word her concerns; she shows him off to the gym door because she is polite, and lets him go on his merry way. Steven knows that look, though, and stops to analyse her. Roxanne stops at his side as well, smiling like she knows something he doesn't.

"Yes?" he asks curtly. It's his turn to raise a questioning eyebrow. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

"Well. There is something." She glances at him, lets go of her smile. In the sunlight, her features are sharper than usual, but she still manages to come across as gentle. "I was under the impression you were to train with our newest addition. Isn't that what Drake asked you to do?" Steven smiles, already aware. "Not that I would know about that, but you know news travel fast in our little circle."

"Of course. I haven't forgotten. Is your opinion of me that low, Roxanne?"

He chuckles and steps out into the city as her cheeks colour amusingly. Rustboro welcomes him with open arms, and it's not before long that he arrives into Devon's lobby; the elevator's music is the sound to a growing anxiety. His father's desk houses a scotch, on the rocks, just for him, and Steven sits down on a plush couch while he waits.

"Steven," his father greets from behind him, arriving from—certainly—a meeting with his engineers.

"Father. Is there a reason as to why you've called me here?" His voice is a little hoarse from the alcohol, but he manages not to let it turn bitter. "I have some business to take care of."

"Sorry, Steven, did I interrupt any plans?" He sits down in the couch next to his, nursing his own glass of scotch (no ice). To his father, a meeting between two men is important business; it's a matter of Cuban cigars and nice alcohol. It's something that speaks volumes of him, Steven knows. But he can't help to have been brought up this way, all smooth edges and old-fashioned glamour …

"No, not at all, I just—have somewhere I need to be in the afternoon."

They talk business and his father lets his concern drift towards alterations in the temperature all across Hoenn; that on itself is a warning for a terrible future, because a big CEO can never afford to be concerned with anything. They talk about volcanoes and the sudden destruction of coral reefs.

"The world is changing slightly," he says, setting his finished whiskey on the coffee table. Steve has barely touched his.

Afterwards it all, when he stops for coffee to get rid of the whiskey taste on his mouth, he contemplates. Around him, slowly, the world is shifting. Police reports on costumed criminals, heat waves in cold locations. And Steven only really thinks about the new addition to the gym leaders' circle. By the time he gets to Lavaridge, it's six in the afternoon, and there is an unusual cool breeze. His sight targets the red of Flannery's hair when he reaches her gym, and by the time he greets her, he realises that perhaps he's forgotten all about statistics and about concerns.

He isn't quite sure of how that makes him feel.


End file.
